There was no way that I would let
you see, the truth of who I really am,
or who I wished to be, so easily, and yet
in doubt, I trapped myself, ensuring that no love began.
Within the breathless moment that we first met,
I heard the angels calling out new whispered dreams
felt the beat of heart which did forget,
sensed that hopes were not quite what they seemed,
and watched as dark-dressed doubt, so surely, quietly crept.
The scar upon my soul long driven cruelly deep,
felt tender in the face of love's demands,
and shadowed all the passion; released in silent weep,
and drenched in coldest fear what lay in offered hands;
laid bitter waste to all my plans.